


back to the start

by ameliafuckingshepherd



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Anorexia, Behavioral Analysis Unit (Criminal Minds), Crime Fighting, Domestic Fluff, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Elle is mentioned because i love her and im mad everyone forgot about her, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Character Death, JJ Needs a Hug, JJ centric, Miscarriage, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pregnancy, Reid needs a hug, Sad, Sad Spencer Reid, Team Dynamics, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-12-01 22:08:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20914319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ameliafuckingshepherd/pseuds/ameliafuckingshepherd
Summary: “Spence…I know this last year has been especially hard for you.”“Don’t. Don’t do that. Don’t pretend like you’re any better than me.”“Hey. look at me.” she put a hand on his cheek and forced him to look her in the eyes. “That is not what I am trying to do. I'm just trying to help."





	back to the start

**Author's Note:**

> my life is a mess, this is a mess, and i just wanted to post it so i could be done with it. based on this edit: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BS4h4BNw-uM&t=49s
> 
> very much jj centric

127.8

"Spence, what would you do without me?"

Spencer gave JJ an odd look. "what do you mean?"

"if I was gone. what would you do?"

his brow furrowed in the little way it had always done when he was troubled. JJ glanced around the car, desperate to look anywhere but in her friend's eyes. 

"I mean, people have left me before, you know that. my friends have moved away, but I've always gotten through it. we all have."

but that wasn't what she meant, and they both knew it. 

the rest of the drive back to Quantico passed in silence.

125.6

she fired her gun at a training target until all the bullets were gone. the sound was deafening even through her earmuffs, but she didn't care. it was distant. far away, like most things in her life now.

124.1

she couldn't (wouldn't eat). Spencer noticed, but it wasn't like she didn't see the track marks appear and fade on his arms. they shared an apartment and a life, but sometimes it felt like they lived in different worlds.

122

JJ curled up in their bed and did paperwork late into the night, drinking ungodly amounts of coffee to stay awake. she didn't really need it, though. she didn't sleep much anyway. this is how he found her at four thirty-seven in the morning.

"you've got to get some sleep."

she rubbed her eyes, and Spencer went in and out of focus in the doorway. "I'm not tired, Spence."

he moved to sit next to her, and she rolled to the other side of the mattress to make room. "you know, you're still the only person who calls me that."

JJ snuggled into his arms, and he leaned his cheek against her head. "I know."

116.3

months passed, but they hardly noticed. it was December already. Cases piled higher and higher, and Hotch practically slept at the office. JJ wondered if it was easier than going home to an empty house full of ghosts of the past.

if she could rewind, she'd take it all the way back to Roz. she would save her sister and save herself.

115.9 

he overdosed in January and spent ten days in the hospital trying to get clean. JJ didn't even get a call, and she was so busy with everything else in her chaotic life that she almost forgot to pick him up when he was discharged. 

he looked like shit.

she looked worse.

JJ threw out the needles and heroin. Spence didn't complain. they both hoped that they could put this behind them.

they both knew that was more easily said than done. 

110.2

he was three months clean. JJ was so proud when he brought home the chip she almost cried. she hugged him, and his hands slid down her back in the way that wasn't sexual or comforting but seeking. he was counting her ribs, and it wasn't hard.

she could only use the stress of the job as an excuse for so long. 

Emily had tried to talk to her. JJ lied her way out of it. 

Hotch and Rossi cornered her next, but she managed to get out of it. she always did.

she was going to have to get better at hiding this, whatever 'this' was. 

108.4

late at night, she lay wrapped in Spencer's arms and stared out the window. 

"I can't do this anymore, Roz. I wish you were here for all the obvious reasons, but also because...you would understand me. you always knew just what to say. I miss you every single day. I'm not even sure when my life fell apart. maybe it was after you, you know. after you flamed it, or whatever," JJ let out a short laugh. "but I don't think it really went to hell until a few years ago. my friend, Emily? she reminds me of you, Roz. just in the little ways. she's sarcastic and she's caring and she's so beautiful, inside and out."

now JJ was crying. she had no idea what she was saying anymore. 

"I wish you could see me now, 'cause you'd be so proud of me. I've helped a lot of people. the only person i can't seem to save is myself." Spencer turned in his sleep. JJ adjusted herself so she was still surrounded by him and by his smell. he kept her safe from the demons of her past and the dead sister that couldn't hear her. "I don't know why I said all that. goodnight, Roz. I love you always, okay?"

somewhere from beyond the grave, her sister said it back.

100.1

She found out she was pregnant in May. when she told Spencer, he cried in happiness. He hugged her and promised he would never leave her or their baby. 

The team gathered in the jet for a flight to Montana. Spencer was reading the file when his head snapped up.

“What about Rosalind?”

“What?”

“If it’s a girl, we could name her Rosalind.” JJ leaned across the table and kissed him. “What was that for?”

“You just know me really well, Spence.” 

He smiled and went back to his work. It reminded her of years long past, of memories from more simple times. She remembered the day she realized she was in love with him. 

_She was sitting in their old living room pulling an all-nighter to finish up a case. Spence came home after midnight holding two cups of coffee, a crepe from JJ’s favorite diner across the street, and a book._

_“What’s this?”_

_“I thought you might be hungry. And tired. And,” he said, holding up the book, “this made me think of you.”_

_“‘Gardening for the Modern Man, Tips and Tricks to Bring Your Garden to Life’? Thanks, Spence, but I don’t think this is really my thing.”_

_He chuckled and handed her the coffee, which she held onto with desperation. “Remember that case we had in 2011? The Rosebud Killer? He fertilized his garden with his victims?”_

_“I do remember it, vividly.”_

_“That was your first case as an official profiler. Sorry, it’s stupid. It just made me think of you and how proud I was of you.”_

_“I love it. Next time I grow roses out of human remains, I’ll make sure to consult this for, uh, tips to bring my garden to life.”_

_“Fertilizing with human remains and you’ll be bringing more than your garden to life,” he said ominously. _

_JJ smacked his shoulder lightly. “Only if you plant them under a full moon!”_

_They continued to work, or Spencer did. JJ stared at him longer than she should. It stopped being romantic and started being just plain creepy. _

_“Actually, almost all spree killings are done out of rage and revenge, but you already know...what’s wrong?”_

_“I love you, Spence.”_

_His lips quirked to the side in a half-smile. “I love you too.”_

105.5

It was a boy. His heartbeat showed on the ultrasound screen, and JJ found herself wiping away tears. Spencer hugged her so tight it hurt. 

“I’m so happy, Jay.”

She couldn’t respond, but he knew she was happy, too. 

98.2

She screamed, and it was the most blood-curdling sound Spencer had ever heart. He ran to the bathroom and flung open the door. JJ stood in her underwear. Blood dripped down her thighs. 

“No…”

She was still looking at her legs in horror. 

“No,” he said again. “No, no, this isn’t happening.” 

They drove to the hospital twenty miles over the speed limit. Spencer’s hands were shaking. JJ’s arms were wrapped around her stomach as if she could stop the inevitable. He had hardly stopped the car when he threw himself out. 

JJ tried to stand. Her knees hit the concrete and Spence hardly caught her before the rest of her joined them. He scooped her in his arms and ran to the doors.

“Help! My baby, my-my-JJ, please help, god please help me,” he shouted. Doctors took JJ and put her on a gurney. Spencer didn’t let go of her hand. 

96.1

She miscarried because she was so underweight. Their baby (Gideon Morgan Reid-Jereau, they were going to name him) was dead and it was her fucking fault. She killed him. She hated herself even more.

Spencer started using again. This time, he didn’t try to hide it. He came to work late the next day and JJ didn't come in at all. His usual slacks and sweater were wrinkled and coffee stained. He never handled grief well. 

His baby was gone. It had only been a few weeks since they found out about the pregnancy, but he and JJ fell in love with their unborn child. How could they not? 

He didn’t sleep and spent the night looking over books on old criminal law. They comforted him. The next morning, JJ walked into the bullpen. Spencer crushed her in a hug. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. 

“This isn’t your fault, Jay.”

Her chin quivered. She pulled away and took a deep breath. There was no point in arguing. They needed each other right now. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and hugged her again. 

Morgan pulled him aside before he and JJ left that night. 

“Kid, talk to me.”

“About what, Morgan?”

“You think we haven't noticed anything wrong with you and JJ? What happened? Are you…” he didn’t need to finish the sentence for Spencer to know what he wanted to (but couldn’t bring himself to) say.

“If I tell you, do you swear not to tell anyone else? Not even Savannah?”

The older agent nodded. He looked worried, and Spence couldn’t blame him. Conversations like this never ended well.

“JJ miscarried. She was pregnant.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god, Reid, that’s horrible, I’m so sorry.”

When Spencer finally worked up the strength to respond, his voice was hardly a whisper. “We were going to name him Gideon.”

95.9

JJ feinted, and she didn’t wake up. It was the second time Spencer carried her into the ER that week.

_____

Her heartbeat was thirty while she slept. Spencer could hardly stay sober. Their teammates came when he called them and they didn’t leave. Emily sat beside him and held his hand so hard he thought it might bruise, but he hardly felt it.

She didn’t wake up for five days. The doctors said she had metabolic alkalosis so severe she’d fallen into a coma. Morgan held Spencer while he cried because no one else really knew. When JJ opened her eyes, she was in a treatment center in the middle of Pennsylvania. 

109.8

She signed herself out as soon as the state would let her. She didn’t call Spence or Emily or anyone else. She took a bus home. 

Everything was going fine (well, okay, not everything) until she was halfway to Washington and reality set in. she was an anorexic FBI agent in her thirties who lost a baby and was probably getting too old or too sick to have another. Her boyfriend, if that's even what he was because they never really talked about it, was a genius drug addict with PTSD and a genetic predisposition to schizophrenia. Her sister killed herself, and she never talked to her family. 

For the first time since Spencer overdosed, she started to cry. Soon a few tears turned into sobs which she stifled in her hands. Her head hung between her knees and she tried to pull it together. 

“Are you okay?”

JJ jerked her head up, frantically wiping her face. An older woman, maybe in her sixties, stood beside JJ and looked down at her in concern. 

“Oh, yeah, I’m great.”

“May I sit?”

JJ nodded. “Be my guest.” 

“I have a friend named Eunice, and her daughter went to that hospital as well.” JJ’s eyes snapped to the old woman while her hands flew to the gun at her hip (she never went anywhere without her gun, no matter how bad things got). “Oh calm down, honey, you’ve still got the bracelet on.”

JJ looked at her wrist and laughed wetly. “Oh. sorry, I’m a little paranoid these days.”

“What are you, a cop?”

“FBI. Supervisory Special Agent Jennifer Jareau.”

“My name is Mary, Agent Jareau.”

“Please, just call me JJ.”

“So what brings you to Pennsylvania?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

Maybe it was that JJ missed having someone to confide in besides a therapist, or maybe Mary just reminded her of her mom, but JJ found herself spilling her secrets. 

It felt good.

It felt safe. 

109.6

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I didn’t want to bother you.” 

“I would have come.”

“I know.”

Neither of them talked for a while. 

“I’m sorry,” she started, just as he said, “I love you-”

JJ smiled sadly. The conversation felt unnatural, along with a thousand other things. 

“You don’t need to be sorry, JJ,” he whispered. r

JJ mouthed, I know.

107.2

She went back to work as soon as the doctor cleared her. The team was weighed down with dozens of cases, each more brutal than the last, and while they were glad to see her, no one could stop by her desk for long. Emily hugged her and Morgan kissed her on the cheek. Rossi showed his feelings by bringing her coffee (which was almost better than what the others were doing).

Just like with Spencer, JJ felt out of rhythm with her friends. They seemed to tip-toe around her like she might drop dead any second. She told them she was fine.

They would be stupid to believe it.

Spence was irritable and he looked tired. JJ didn’t think he was using, but there was no way to be sure. She was too busy with her own shit to pay attention. A week later, she and Spencer moved out of their house. He found an apartment twenty minutes away from Quantico. It was from the 1930s, all brick and exposed copper pipes. JJ loved it.

Spencer stood in the middle of the empty living room among hundreds of unpacked boxes that held decades of memories. 

JJ asked, “What’s wrong?”

He looked at her like she had caught him off guard. “It’s weird.”

“What?”

“We’ve been through so much. We’ve been shot, tortured, we’ve buried friends and family, and we move past it every time. I don’t want this to be the same.”

JJ frowned and leaned into his side. “Somethings are better left in the past.”

Roz. Foyet. Tobias Hankel. Elle Greenaway. Jason Gideon, six feet under. Spencer sobbing over his grave, screaming, “why did you leave me?”. 

The list just went on. 

“I know.”

105.9 

Their things were unpacked, and the ultrasound photo of their unborn son rested on their dresser. She was somehow talked into a housewarming party by Rossi and Emily. It took place on Saturday, their next day off. 

Spencer zipped up JJ’s dress. She turned and rose up on the balls of her feet to kiss him. He smiled, but it was pained and longing as if he wished nothing had ever changed.

she couldn’t blame him. 

His breathing changed, and JJ could tell that he had something to say, but the doorbell rang and his thoughts stayed inside. 

Emily, Hotch, and Rossi arrived first. Ten minutes later, Garcia and Morgan came knocking. JJ felt like she was in a different world than everyone else, and one look at Spencer confirmed that he felt the same. He slipped out of the room quietly, and JJ followed. 

He sat on their bed with his head between his knees. She knelt infrint of him and ran a soothing hand over his back. 

“Talk to me.”

“I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what?”

“I tried so hard to get clean.”

Oh.

“Spence…I know this last year has been especially hard for you.”

“Don’t. Don’t do that. Don’t pretend like you’re any better than me.”

“Hey. look at me.” she put a hand on his cheek and forced him to look her in the eyes. “That is not what I am trying to do.” 

“Don’t use your negotiation voice on me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” (she did, and she knew exactly what voice she was using)

He blew past her deflection. “You’re sick in more way that one. You’re half dead. So get off your high horse, look me in the eye, and tell me you’re happy.”

JJ stared at him. “My life has never gone the way I want it to. It’s hard. It’s painful. It doesn't get better. so I’m sorry if I tried to make you feel better, Spencer, but when you tell me you want to shoot up I’m not going tell you how god fucking awful I feel.”

A beat of silence smothered the room. 

“I never said I wanted to shoot up.”

“Well, you might as well have.” JJ walked out and slammed the door behind her. She poured herself a shot of whiskey from the bottle on the table and drank it in one sip. “So, what’s for dinner?”

Her friends looked at her for a second, and JJ wondered how much of her and Spencer’s conversation they heard. Then Emily cheered, followed by Morgan, followed by a “yes, girl!” from Garcia. 

_____

After everyone left, JJ made her way to Spencer who stood motionless in the kitchen. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, but she might as well have spoken to the refrigerator. 

She took a deep breath and tried to suppress an eye roll. Could he just apologize back and move on? Or at least acknowledge her?

“No. I should be sorry. You don’t need to...this was my fault.”

“It wasn’t, Spencer.”

He finally looked at her. His eyes were red and empty. He was a shell of the man she used to know, but she knew she wasn’t any better. 

“I ruined the night. I usually do. You’re good at this stuff, at pretending you’re happy. I’m not.”

“This wasn’t your fault.” 

“You already said that.”

JJ shut her eyes. “It’s not your fault. It’s my fault. I killed our baby. I killed myself.”

He didn’t respond. She didn’t know what else to say. 

102.3

Spencer overdosed again. JJ stood beside his hospital bed and finally understood what she had been putting him through for the last ten years. 

They took him away to a rehab center in upstate New York, and JJ’s heart went with him. 

“This was my fault, Spence. It was my fault.”

My fault.

**Author's Note:**

> ugh this went in such a weird direction. my life is fucking hectic rn. school is crazy stressful, im relapsing, and i fell in ballet and sprained my ankle which is fucking fantastic because rehearsal season starts next week. i swear a lot. sorry.  
anyway, love you guys forever, thanks for reading, you can always talk to me, etc. etc.


End file.
